High Rhulain

birds do slumber in the nest,

busy bees have gone to rest,

all good mothers know what’s best, for the babes they

love.

When tomorrow comes anew, comes anew,

there’ll be lots of things to do, things to do,

’neath a summer sky of blue,

roses blooming just for you,

birds will sing so sweetly, too, for my own dear one.”

Warmed by the fireglow, Leatho Shellhound allowed his leaden eyelids to fall for the first time in two days. He dreamed of a mouse warrior who carried a wondrous sword. The visitor from the kingdom of dreams had little to say, but the outlaw sea otter dwelt on his every word:

“Masters who lack slaves cannot serve themselves well, and an empty compound is a trap without bait.”

Dawn was casting its rosy tendrils over the hidden valley when Deedero stirred Big Kolun and Leatho from the edge of the whitened embers.

“Rise’n’shine, you two, make way for a workin’ otter. Come on, shift yoreselves from under me paws, I’ve got to liven this fire up t’cook brekkist. Outside with ye both!”

It was not wise to argue with Big Kolun’s missus, so they roused themselves fully by breaking through the curtaining waterfall, out onto the ledge. Shaking and stretching, Leatho took stock of their new surroundings. Birdsong in harmony with the sound of the falls echoed around the valley.

Kolun sat on the rim of the ledge, dangling his footpaws over the drop to the pool below. He nodded admiringly. “Ould Zillo picked a prime spot here, mate. Just lookit those veggibles growin’ over yonder, an’ fruit, too!”

Leatho sat down beside him. “Aye, the stuff’s growin’ wild now, but I can see it was once laid out in terraces by the clans of long ago. I’ll wager some of our mates could knock it back into shape, like it used t’be. There must be fish an’ freshwater shrimp in that pool an’ the stream below it.”

Kolun stood up. “No wonder otters loved Holt Summerdell. Wot d’ye say me’n’you go an’ gather some vittles for brekkist? That’ll put a smile on my Deedero’s face.”

The outlaw had to smile at his big friend’s enthusiasm. “Aye, let’s do that, matey, but I can’t hang around here all day, no matter how nice it is.”

The big otter shrugged. “Fair enough. Where are we off to?” Leatho winked. “Just followin’ a dream.”

Between them, Leatho and Kolun carried a heap of produce they had gathered. Deedero sorted through it. “Apples, pears, leeks, mushrooms an’ damsons, too. You mean we’ve got a damson tree out there?”

Kolun threw his paws wide. “There’s more growin’ on those terraces than ye could shake a stick at, me ole petal. The damsons ain’t quite ripe yet, but there’s plums an’ all manner o’ berries out there. I even seen some ramson an’ hotroot bloomin’ among the herbs.”

Whulky and Chab entered the cave, carrying a woven reed net they had made.

“We did a spot o’ fishin’ down in that pond, an’ look at wot we got!”

“Freshwater shrimp, the water’s swarmin’ with ’em, ain’t it, Chab?”

“Aye, nobeast’s fished ’em for a long time. Did I hear ye mention hotroot, Kolun?”

Lorgo rubbed his paws together gleefully. “I’ll go an’ get some right now. Er, Deedero, d’ye think there might be some shrimp’n’hotroot soup for brekkist?”

The ottermum wagged a ladle at him. “I might think about it after I’ve made vittles for the little ’uns, but ye’ll have to wait.”

Birl Gully shoved Lorgo toward the water curtain. “Come on, mate, I’ll help ye gather the hotroot. Kolun, Leatho, are ye comin’ with us?”

The outlaw declined Birl’s offer. “No, we’ve got other business today. But while yore out there gatherin’ hotroot, see if there’s any ingredients that’ll help ye to brew up some o’ yore Gullyplug Punch.”

The jolly old otter slapped his rudder down heartily. “Stan’ on me whiskers, Shellhound. That’s a great idea! I’ll brew a big barrel o’ Gullyplug to celebrate our new home. C’mon Whulky, Chab, lend a paw. You, too, Zillo, an’ you, young Banya.”

They splashed through the water curtain, laughing and shouting, all except Banya. Kolun waved his oar at her.

“Ain’t you goin’ with ’em, young ’un?”

The tough ottermaid winked knowingly at him. “No, I’m goin’ with you an’ Leatho. You two are up to somethin’, so I’m comin’ along with ye.”

Leatho whispered in her ear, “Then ye’d best tread wary, an’ come armed, Banya Streamdog, ’cos we ain’t goin’ pickin’ hotroots.”

Smiling grimly, Banya patted her sling and stone pouch. “Somehow I didn’t think ye were!”

The day was fine and the going was easy. By midmorning they were skirting the rim of Deeplough, with the dark, still waters far beneath them. Striding along either side of Leatho, his two friends listened as he outlined their mission.

“We’re bound for the slave compound behind the fortress. We’ve got to find a way to free the slaves. Once we’ve got ’em away from Felis, we’ll be able to take the offensive against him without worryin’ what that villain would do by takin’ reprisals an’ punishin’ our friends.”

They marched onward, discussing their plans, unaware that they were being closely watched.